


Beautiful

by Rose Argent (roseargent)



Category: Youkai Niisan | Yokai Rental Shop (Manga)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Dysmorphia, Body Dysphoria, M/M, Masturbation, Parent/Child Incest, Pre-Canon, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28236207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseargent/pseuds/Rose%20Argent
Summary: Nurarihyon hasn't come to see Enju for a while. Enju thinks his current body may be the problem, and works to correct that.
Relationships: Enju (Yokai Rental Shop)/Nurarihyon (Yokai Rental Shop)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 4
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Piinutbutter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piinutbutter/gifts).



> Happy holidays!
> 
> The relationship between Nurarihyon and Enju is twisty and fucked up and it was a delight to explore it a bit for you.
> 
> It was also interesting to dig into how Enju's body works, exactly. The manga certainly gives us some details, but leaves a lot unsaid, so I blatantly made shit up. Hopefully I didn't accidentally contradict anything in the manga. On that note, I couldn't find any confirmation on Enju's exact age, aside from "younger than Karasu, older than Hiiragi," so I basically guessed; this fic is set during the time Hiiragi was a child in the Yakai, and assumes that Enju is fully mature at the time.
> 
> Fair warning for any passers by: there is a very brief bit of semi-graphic body horror involving rotting/falling apart.
> 
> I used the official English translation of Enju's way of referring to Nurarihyon: Papa Sir. If there's another, fan preferred translation, I am sadly not aware of it. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story!

None of them were right. 

The thought was paralyzing. He'd tried so many times. So many variations. They were all wrong! 

This one had the wrong nose. This one's eyes were the wrong colour. None of them was right. None of them was beautiful enough to show Papa Sir. With a sweep of his hand, Enju sent the row of false faces crumbling into compost. They could serve at least that much use.

Sitting down in front of the mirror, Enju examined the face of his current body. Why had Papa Sir become less interested in it, lately? Where had he gone wrong? Should he try to make it look more like Papa Sir? Sons looked like their fathers, didn't they? 

No. He'd tried that, that was worse. When he tried to make a body that looked like Papa Sir's son it just came out as a pale shadow of Papa Sir's perfection. Beauty wasn't enough. He had to be _original_. That was what made Papa Sir acknowledge him--making new things, creating new plants. A new face would make Papa Sir look at Enju again. But how could he be beautiful enough to please Papa Sir if he didn't look anything like the most beautiful person there was?

Enju shoved away from the dressing table, knocking the stool to the floor behind him. Looking at this failure of a body wasn't going to get him anywhere. He'd just have to start again. 

===

For all his determination, Enju still hadn't found the right look for the new body. What he needed was inspiration, and what could be more inspiring than seeing Papa Sir's face? 

He was a busy man, Enju knew that. Enju wouldn't bother him. Wouldn't ask for anything. He just wanted a peek. A quick, soul-renewing glance at Papa Sir's perfect body. That was all. 

Papa Sir wasn't in any of the public rooms, so Enju nervously slipped into the private chambers. The new bride was here, and Enju didn't want to run into her. He understood how important Papa Sir's grand plan was. He did! He would do anything to help create the world Papa Sir wanted. Still, the brides made him uneasy. He couldn't look at them without imagining their faces bloody, despairing, as Papa Sir disposed of them. 

Was the blood only in Enju's imagination? He could smell it, strong and real. He didn't want to see. He had to see. 

Sliding the door open only a crack, Enju peered into the room. It wasn't human blood he smelled, or the half-yokai blood of another failure. Not yet. The latest child--not a brother, not yet, calling them that too soon only lead to heartbreak--was devouring a small yokai, lapping at its blood with a ferocity that scared Enju, a little.

What scared Enju more was the look on Papa Sir's face as he watched. He'd seen that look before, but only when Papa Sir looked at him. Then he heard the words he'd never heard before about any of the others: "He is a half-yokai with the makings of a success."

Hands shaking as his control over the body wavered, Enju tried to close the screen as quietly as possible. He must have succeeded, must have staggered back to his garden somehow, because the next thing he knew he was there, in his own space, looking up at the bright sunlight blindly. 

A success. A _baby brother_. It was everything Papa Sir had worked for. He would do anything for Papa Sir. He was _happy_ for Papa Sir. 

Had Papa Sir stopped looking at him because of the new child? 

Enju shook his head violently, trying to shake the selfish thought out. How could he think such a terrible thing? What kind of person was he? He would just have to be better. Do better. Papa Sir would look at him again, and he would have a brother. Everything would be fine if he just did better. 

The new child hadn't looked like Papa Sir, either. If anything, he'd been nearly a copy of his human mother, and Papa Sir had looked on him with favour. Maybe that was the inspiration Enju needed for the new body. He could show it to Papa Sir, and Papa Sir would smile. Maybe his baby brother would smile, too!

What had his mother looked like, again? Enju swayed as her voice rang in his memory. "This monster isn't my baby!"

When he came back to himself the false body was crouched on the ground, holding its head. He was an ugly monster. His own mother had seen that. But Papa Sir gave him a chance! He could make himself beautiful for Papa Sir, if he just got it right this time!

Getting back to his feet, Enju drifted towards his greenhouse workroom. She'd had beautiful hair, his mother. He remembered that much.

===

Enju didn't know how long he'd spent working on the new body. Everything seemed to click, this time. He based a lot of it on the things Papa Sir had complimented about his old body, and on distant memories of his mother's hair. 

Sometimes he knew it still wasn't good enough and wanted to destroy it. But it was more beautiful than his old body, he could say that much. Even if he could never be beautiful enough for Papa Sir, every step he took in the right direction was important. He had to keep working. 

The hair was easiest. Long and silky, and a soft green that reminded him of healthy growing plants without being garish or swampy. 

He left the face much the same as the last one, just tweaking things here and there. The chin just a touch more pointed, the nose a touch more delicate. The eyes... here, he hesitated. The colour could stay the same, he thought, but he'd make them a little bigger, a little brighter. Long lashes--not so luxurious as Papa Sir's, and dark where his were light, but they framed the eyes well. 

It still wasn't enough, but it would have to do. Enju nodded to himself, then shifted his attention from the model he'd been working on so far, to budding off the real thing from his own body.

Like this one, the new body was slender, and neither too tall nor too short. Long fingers, and dextrous. Enju paused, blushing at the thoughts that popped unbidden into his head as he shaped the body. But now wasn't the time for delay--this was where it got difficult. Enough of the new body was formed that he had to start providing it with energy, or it would start to fade. It was a part of him, but it had no roots to feed it; it had no ability to photosynthesise. Essentially, he was supporting two very complex bodies at once, until he finished it and was able to transfer himself completely. 

In the early days, he hadn't been able to maintain two, even for long enough to finish the new one. He'd had to leave the old body when the new was still only half-made, pitiful and unable to move, ugly and misshapen in its incompleteness. If Papa Sir had ever seen him like that... horror shivered through him, and he focused harder on finishing the new body. Never again. He was stronger now. He could do so much more for Papa Sir. 

Finally, the time came to abandon the old body. He felt it start to fall away, and then it was gone from his awareness, just an empty shell splayed out on the floor. He looked down at it with no fondness, seeing all the flaws in it now. Had he really shown such an ugly thing to Papa Sir for so long? No wonder Papa Sir had lost interest in him. 

Enju's first few steps were awkward, the new body stiff and not quite responsive. Enju had a flash of memory, of being tethered to a horrible, rotting thing, falling apart with every step because he'd run out of energy, made a body too big to support with his current level of power. He'd wanted to be grown-up for Papa Sir, but he hadn't been ready then. Pieces of him had fallen off, but he could still feel them until he made the conscious choice to cut them away from his control. In the end, nothing had been left of it but a bed of mulch, and his hideous true form. 

Shaking off the memory, Enju slid a little more of himself into the new body than he ever had before. It responded instantly, moving the way he wanted it to. He felt the floor under its feet. Air against its skin. _This_ body was him, not that ugly form that had driven his mother to madness. He'd never inhabited one of the false shells this intimately before. It felt good. Different--the sunlight on its skin was warm, and pleasant. Not life-giving the way it was to his original, but good. He could almost forget what he really was. 

A new body was a good start, but it wouldn't be enough. Moving easily now, with a grace he hoped would please Papa Sir, Enju turned to his notes on potential new plants that would serve Papa Sir's interests. Somewhere in there might be the idea that made Papa Sir smile at him again. 

===

"I see you've been busy." 

Enju's new body startled, the sound of Papa Sir's voice breaking his concentration. The plant he'd been working on withered under his hands and he flushed with shame. (The first time he had made a body that could blush, Papa Sir had praised him so. He'd refined the ability in this new body, producing an effect more subtle, more aesthetically pleasing).

But it hadn't been his current project that Papa Sir had noticed. He felt a tingle in his scalp as Papa Sir lifted a lock of his hair, letting the length of it slip through his exquisite fingers.

A dozen questions fought for control of Enju's tongue. What had happened with his little brother? Did he still have a little brother? Did Papa Sir like the new body? Had he done well? Was there anything else he could do for Papa Sir? 

Why hadn't Papa Sir been to see him for so long?

The possibility of that last question actually coming out sealed Enju's lips in horror. He was a monster to even think it! Papa Sir owed him nothing. He owed Papa Sir everything. That was the simple truth of his life.

Finally, he got out something more acceptable. "W-would you like to see what I've been working on?" Enju shifted the papers on his desk, trying to find the most promising project to show Papa Sir. 

"Very much so." Papa Sir spun Enju's work stool to face him, then cupped Enju's new chin in his hand. Enju felt a flutter, the heart he'd painstakingly constructed skipping a beat. He knew that the flower in his hair--all that showed of his true form--must be flourishing, but he wanted to feel only the reactions in his new body, so he shut away that knowledge. 

Papa Sir examined Enju's face with a careful attention that felt more life-giving than the sun ever had. Enju's cheeks heated again, this time in hopeful anticipation. Would the new body please Papa Sir? He was looking so closely. He wouldn't miss any detail. Enju fought the urge to raise a hand to his face, to check again that every feature was as he'd planned it. Too late, now. Either it would pass muster, or it wouldn't.

A faint smile touched Papa Sir's lips, and Enju's head spun. He'd smiled!

Reaching out with one of those lovely, clawed fingers, Papa Sir sliced open the top clasp of Enju's robe, letting it fall open just enough to bare a hint of collarbone. "Show me the rest."

Enju surged to his feet, hands already fumbling with the rest of the clasps. He took a deep breath and slowed his movements. He had to show that the body worked well, as much as it looked good. Careful fingers that wouldn't drop important items. A body that could bend and twist and stretch naturally, smoothly. Carefully now, Enju undid enough clasps to let the robe fall open to his waist. He would have done more but Papa Sir stopped him with a raised hand. 

Every inch of him was explored, as Enju held his robe closed at the waist with one hand. Papa Sir had him flex his arm, felt the muscle there. It was firm, but not too noticeable. He was strong enough to do what needed doing, but not ugly with bulging muscle. He had to switch hands to keep his robe from falling open further than Papa Sir wanted and repeat the process with the other arm. 

Papa Sir touched each of Enju's fingers, watching so intently as he brushed his fingertips against Enju's. He clasped Enju's hands in his, feeling the strength of his grip. When he let go Enju let his arms fall back to his sides, his hands feeling suddenly cold at the loss of contact.

Razor-sharp claws brushed over his nipples, ever so delicately, Papa Sir being kind enough to be careful of his skin. Enju shivered at the feeling, and his blush tipped over into a darker pink.

"You've made this one very sensitive."

Swaying a little, Enju searched Papa Sir's tone for any trace of censure. "Was that... was that not right?" This body could feel pain, just like his real one. It bled, and it hurt. It wouldn't kill him if it "died," but it would hurt him in a way the previous versions couldn't have. But it knew when something was too hot to touch, or too cold. He could smell things and hear things with a clarity his true form just couldn't, shrivelled plant that it was. The benefits had seemed to outweigh the risks, but if Papa Sir didn't like it...

The smile Papa Sir gave him was approving, warm. It made Enju feel weak in the knees, but he didn't let it show. He wouldn't appear weak in front of Papa Sir any more, no matter how overwhelming it got. 

Papa Sir turned him around, examined his back with the same thoroughness, the same gentleness. Not once did Papa Sir's claws leave a mark on Enju's skin. When he was done, when he had reached the small of Enju's back, where his robe was still bunched up, Papa Sir stepped back and said, "Continue."

Enju let the robe fall to the floor, and then Papa Sir's hands were on his hips and he didn't know what to do with the flood of feelings that hit him. But Papa Sir didn't stop there--he slid his hands down Enju's ass, down the backs of his thighs, leaving little tingles of joy in his wake. When he touched the backs of Enju's knees, Enju made a noise without meaning to. Papa Sir paused, then murmured, "Very sensitive, indeed." 

Rather than bending further, Papa Sir had Enju lift his foot so that he could examine his calves, the soles of his feet, his toes. It tickled, and Enju fought to stand still, keeping his balance on one foot. He could prove that this body performed well in every way, he could. 

"Turn around."

Nervously, Enju turned to face Papa Sir again. He couldn't quite look Papa Sir in the face, now that his work was entirely bared for Papa Sir to see, to judge.

This time, Papa Sir started at his feet and worked his way up. Each touch was firm, almost impersonal, except that Papa Sir was still so, so gentle. Those hands that Enju had seen tear apart failure after failure, they never hurt him. He was special. He _was_. 

When Papa Sir reached his hips again, Enju felt his breathing hitch. This body needed to breathe at least a little, but the thought of Papa Sir's hands near, much less on... he'd never tried to copy that part before. It wasn't necessary. It served no purpose for a plant. But it made Papa Sir so happy when Enju touched his...

"It's cute." Papa Sir's lips curved into a smile, though one with just a bit of a wicked edge to it. It made Enju's heart race again, and he had to force the body to breathe.

Cute was good, right? Not as good as beautiful, but compared to Papa Sir's, cute was good. Better than ugly, or stupid, or a failure. 

Those long, elegant fingers wrapped around him and Enju gasped aloud. No wonder Papa Sir liked this so much. His knees finally gave out, and he felt Papa Sir catch him easily with one arm. Papa Sir lifted him, then laid him down on the floor and stepped away. Enju bit his lip to keep from wailing--had the noise been bad enough to bother Papa Sir?

"Touch yourself. Show me how it responds." 

Enju could do that. Wanted to do that, already, and if Papa Sir asked him to, that was even better. He wrapped his fingers around that part--around his _cock_. (If he was going to have one, he was going to have to be able to think the word, maybe even say it out loud). It felt like it jumped in his hand, firming and growing just the way Papa Sir's did. He didn't know if the feelings were exactly right--all he had to go on was the way Papa Sir responded to having his touched--but they were _good_. He was careful at first, feeling out the line between _wonderful_ and _too much_ , but as he found his pace, stroking lightly and slowly, he almost forgot that Papa Sir was watching. 

Then Papa Sir was kneeling over him, straddling his shoulders. His own layers of kimono had vanished--Enju felt a pang that he'd missed watching Papa Sir undress--and Papa Sir's cock was thick and hard. Enju's hand faltered to a halt, and he stared up at Papa Sir's gloriously nude body. His skin was so _perfect_ , not a blemish anywhere, and it was soft as silk, wrapped around powerful muscles that didn't distort his elegant form one bit.

"Don't stop. Use your mouth on me." 

Together? They could feel this good _together_? It was more than Enju had dared to hope for. He opened his mouth, tilting his head to get a better angle, and then wrapped his lips around Papa Sir's cock. It was big, bigger than Enju had dared make his own, and he usually had to use his hands, too. But if Papa Sir thought he could do it with his mouth alone, he would. 

He completely forgot that he was supposed to be touching himself, too, as he focused on relaxing his mouth and throat and swallowing one perfect inch at a time. Papa Sir reached back, putting one hand on Enju's and giving a little squeeze--almost hard enough to hurt, but not quite--to remind him. It tested every bit of his control over the body, trying to do both things at once and do them both _well_ , but he would show Papa Sir that he could do it. He started to move his hand again, slow and light as before, at first, and then a little faster as sweat started to smooth out the friction just a little bit. 

With his mouth... he still wasn't sure he was going to get Papa Sir all the way in, but he tried to make up for it with his tongue, pulling out every trick he remembered Papa Sir liking. He was rewarded with a single sigh of pleasure, and then Papa Sir shifted his weight, cupping the back of Enju's head with his hand as he pushed into his mouth--slowly, gently, but inexorably. Enju was undoubtedly making noises now, muffled and desperate, but keeping quiet was more than he could manage with so much else going on in his new body. And then, like magic, Papa Sir's cock was all in. Enju closed his eyes and savoured the moment, his tongue and hand briefly going still as he adjusted to the feeling of Papa Sir filling his mouth, brushing against the back of his throat, stretching him so wide his jaw started to ache almost immediately. 

Papa Sir held that position for a heartbeat, for two, then three, and then he made an approving noise and pulled back slightly, letting Enju go back to work with his tongue. He'd done well! Enju's hand started to move again, jerky with eagerness now, as he basked in the knowledge that he'd pleased Papa Sir. 

Drowning in so many good feelings at once, Enju came into his own hand, hips bucking involuntarily. Feeling a little ashamed, Enju went to work on Papa Sir's cock with a will. It was only a few moments later that Papa Sir tensed, pushing him back down to the floor and pulling out to come onto Enju's face and chest. 

Never one to linger, Papa Sir rose only a breath later, and he was dressed and impeccable again by the time Enju even managed to sit up. Blushing yet again, Enju groped for his robe, for something to cover himself with. He was a sticky mess, and Papa Sir was already so perfectly put together again. Maybe he would get used to feeling so much and be able to recover faster, if he worked at it. Or maybe Papa Sir was just amazing, and Enju would always be an embarrassment in comparison. 

Looking down at him, Papa Sir didn't seem disgusted. He even smiled, a little, and said, "Very well made."

Enju choked out a garbled "Thank you," but Papa Sir was already on his way out the door. He must have other things to do, and he'd spent so much time with Enju already... 

Still feeling a little wobbly, Enju carefully hauled himself upright. He needed to wash up. He almost wanted to keep the marks of Papa Sir's pleasure on his skin a little longer, bask in the glow of having done well but, no, he needed to be presentable as soon as possible, just in case Papa Sir needed him for anything else. 

Papa Sir had praised his new body. He'd called it very well made. That Papa Sir could say such kind things to a monster like Enju... Remembering that would be enough. More than enough to keep him going, for a long time.


End file.
